


Then There Was A Gunshot

by zouissexcam



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-23 06:10:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/618949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zouissexcam/pseuds/zouissexcam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cop!AU - When a man is fatality shot by the river Thames the police force send their best team on the case. However a complete back story to the man’s death proves to be a challenge for Harry and Louis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Then There Was A Gunshot

_Lights streamed through the window and I woke up, rolling over in bed. Well, I tried but his arm was wrapped around my waist too tightly, as if he was never going to let go. Never going to leave. I laughed softly but I really had to go to the bathroom. I couldn’t lay here forever, even though I really wanted to. I moved his arm and got out of bed, moving down the hall._  
…  
 _We have a 10-45 near the southeast side of the river. A 10-45, I repeat a 10-45! We need all available units on the scene immediately! All available units are needed on the scene!_  
  
Harry rushed out of his office, grabbing his partner by the wrist as they moved out the station and piled into his car. He started it up and flicked on the siren, slamming down on the gas.  
  
“Turn the radio on,” Harry muttered, taking a sharp turn around the corner.  
  
Louis did, immediately and they continued their drive while listening to the stream of calls coming from the device.  
  
 _-We needed an ambulance on the scene five minutes ago, where is the ambulance?_  
 _-I need a warrant to close off all the buildings within a five mile radius, right now._  
 _-We need forensic analyzers on the scene immediately_  
 _-Styles and Tomlinson, I need an ETA, I’m putting you on this case._  
  
Louis picked up his radio and glanced at the gps and then at how fast Harry was driving the car before responding, “Should be there in under five minutes, commander.”  
  
 _-Attention all units on the crime scene, Styles and Tomlinson need immediate access to the area, don’t stop them, I wanted them here yesterday._  
  
“This case is going to be hell,” Louis muttered, adjusting his gun holster, “Watch out for that giant pothole.”  
  
Harry hit the pothole, sending the car airborne for a few moments before the tires touched back on the ground and he continued speeding down the street.  
  
“Nevermind,” Louis said, his eyebrows raised.  
  
Harry gave him a quick grin before furrowing his brows in concentration as he took a corner that was uncomfortable at a speed half the pace of their current one, two of the wheels coming off the ground in the process. They were admitted past the edge of the radius without a problem and Harry pulled up right next to the commander’s car.  
  
The pair jumped out of the car and trotted over to where Commander Payne stood. He nodded grimly at them, still barking orders into his radio as he motioned paramedic workers over. Harry and Louis glanced at the sidewalk just a couple feet away from them and made identical winces. After years of working in police investigation specializing on murder cases they had seen plenty of dead bodies in their days.  
  
The one lying at their feet would be a problem, the face completely disfigured as a result of gunshot wounds, the man had been dead long before the first officer would have been able to respond to a call.  
  
“Sir, why do we have the paramedics here?” Louis asked, not adding his silent thought that the victim was a dead as someone could possibly get.  
  
Payne  pointed to a bench behind the team and they turned to see a young man lying down in it. Even from the distance they could see the labored breaths being taken by the man indicating that he was clearly alive. They had a witness.  
  
The commander finally put down his radio and motioned them closer to him so that they wouldn’t be overheard, “Here’s what I’ve gathered. We’re looking at a premeditated homicide here. There was a call a day ago from a man saying he was planning on committing murder in the area two hours from now, he identified a target whose whereabouts are currently unknown. We can’t be certain because the victim is without identification and is unrecognizable but we believe this was the target identified two days ago. We got a call ten minutes ago that there was a fight happening on this street, during the call the emergency respondent heard gunshots go off in rapid succession, couldn’t give us an estimate, and the phone went off the hook. That’s all we have.”  
  
“The caller wasn’t the one shot while they were on call?” Harry asked.  
  
The commander shook his head, “No, the call sounded from that apartment, right across the way,” He pointed to the building, “Investigators went in about three minutes ago, the phone was sitting on the counter, and no one was inside the building. There was no sign of a struggle but the caller was not there. This is all you boys, let me know if you need anything, I have to go talk to the press.”  
  
Commander Payne walked away and Louis and Harry exchanged glances before Harry said, “We are on the same page right?”  
  
“That man on the bench was the caller?”  
  
“Right, just because the caller wasn’t shot on the call doesn’t mean the killer wasn’t still around when the caller rushed from the house. Which means we’ve got a witness.” Harry said.  
  
Louis nodded, “The problem is he’s being towed off to the hospital, I’ll make a call and see if we can get some extra security in there in case the killer wants a clean slate.”

Harry scowled, “Because that’ll leave me to deal with the body, you’re not smooth, Louis.”  
  
His partner grinned, “See you at HQ, Styles.”  
…  
 _I walked into the kitchen to the smell of tea, freshly made as he placed food on the table, smiling at me. His eyes sparkled with happiness and he looked so beautiful with his hair naturally laying on his head that I wondered why he ever did anything with it. He was gorgeous, so gorgeous that it was unfair to the rest of us._  
  
 _I sat across from him at the table, my hand moving to hold his as we ate in relative silence, content with each other’s company. After years of feeling like my life had no purpose I was smiling._  
  
 _He made me happy._  
  
 _What more could I ask for?_  
…  
Harry looked up from his desk as Louis strode into the department, nodding to the few officers under their charge before sitting on the edge of Louis’ desk.  
  
“You were at the hospital forever, I’m guessing that means you have bad news.”  
  
“The guy’s in a coma,” Louis sighed, “They have no idea when he’ll wake up, or if he’ll wake up. In addition to a pair of gun wounds they said he must’ve hit his head really hard on something.”  
  
“Or someone hit it for him. I guess that means we won’t be able to use a witness to help solve the case,” Harry muttered, “While you were gone I had all available security footage brought in, take a look.”  
  
Harry passed a laptop over the desk and leaned back in his chair as Louis watched the slightly grainy black and white video. A man was walking down the street when he paused, slowly turning around. A second man came into view, his back facing the camera’s, his hair covered with a beanie as he seemingly yelled at the other man.  
  
The first man brought out a gun and pulled the trigger, the only thing that happened was the second man threw his head back in laughter before shoving the first man. The pushed man dropped the gun and punched the second in the gut. Suddenly the second man held a  gun, shooting it in rapid succession, continuing his fire even after the first man had collapsed to the ground, clearly dead.  
  
He spit on the body, turning as someone ran out a building, moving to kneel next to the dead man. The shooter seemingly shouted something before pulling the trigger twice more and walking away, storing the gun in his jacket pocket as he went.  
  
Louis scowled, “Definitely planned out, otherwise we would’ve gotten a glimpse of the face, did they identify the body?”  
  
Harry nodded, handing Louis a file, “His name is Jonathan Price, the problem is he has almost no records of any kind, it’s like he didn’t exist. Evidently one of your ‘everyday’ guys that could be mistaken for almost anyone. Was brought in a few times but released when the real culprit was caught. Only one person who identified him as a criminal actually got him stuck with a charge.”  
  
“Keep talking.”  
  
Harry handed over a second folder and as Louis opened it and committed the name and face to memory Harry explained, “He was charged with a murder that could never be proven to be him, just got charged with assaulting the man. Jonathan went free.”  
  
“So this guy has a motive for killing Jonathan.”  
  
“Problem is, he doesn’t exist.” Harry sighed, “All his records are gone, no one knows where they went.”  
  
Louis set the folder down, “As far as I’m concerned, he did it.”  
  
“Good luck convincing everyone else that.”  
  
Louis glanced at the folder again, there was literally no information on their prime subject, this case wasn’t going to be wrapped up simply. He stood and called to one of their team members, “I want the full recording of that emergency call about our victim, including any tracking that the center did on the phone.”  
  
“Yes, chief .” The woman said, moving immediately to get it done  
  
Harry was rewatching the video, “Curious isn’t it? Our victim should actually be a suspect because he pulled the gun first, it just didn’t fire. We found a second set of fingerprints on his gun but we can’t match them up with our suspect because his fingerprints aren’t on file, anywhere.”  
  
Louis sighed, “That’s a problem. Do we know where Price lived? We could sweep his house for any trace of our suspect, and the surrounding area for a watching post.”  
  
Harry picked up the phone, “Let me make a couple phone calls.”  
  
Louis nodded, standing to move to his own desk, placing Niall Horan’s file on the corner while he made some calls of his own.  
…  
 _We spent the day in his apartment. We didn’t do anything notable, or even particularly enjoyable, but I wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else. What made the day perfect was that he was here, with me. He wanted to be with me, as much as I wanted to be with him._  
  
 _I had trouble trusting people, when I used to go to therapy they would tell me it was a side effect of being abandoned as a child. I didn’t understand why I had to pay money for a person who didn’t know me at all to tell me these blatantly obvious things, so I left. In order to leave therapy I had to run away from the foster home._  
  
 _My life had been hell for several years, but if it hadn’t I may never have met him._  
  
 _Zayn Malik wouldn’t be in my life._  
…  
Chief Tomlinson, I have the phone call.”  
  
Louis murmured a thank you and took the offered flash drive, connecting to his computer as he motioned Harry over. The younger lad stood slightly behind Louis, his hands on the desk as he leaned closer to the computer.  
  
 _-999, what is your emergency?_  
 _-Congratulations woman, you’re about to get a valuable police tip off._  
 _-Sir, this line is for emergencies only, what is your emergency?_  
 _-Listen carefully. In exactly two days at five o’clock p.m. I’m going murder Jonathan Price on the southwest side of the River Thames._  
 _-Sir, are you intoxicated?_  
 _-No I’m not fucking intoxicated. If you wanted to do your job you’d trace my call and have a team arrest me immediately. But you probably won’t. Have a wonderful day, and when Jonathan dies, feel free to blame yourself. After all, it will be partly your fault for not acting on this phone call._  
  
The man hung up and Harry bit his lower lip, “No trace of an accent from our caller.  
  
“His phone wasn’t purchased under a name either, it was a pay as you go phone, purchased in cash.” Louis said, looking at details of the call, “The woman who took the call resigned an hour ago without a reason but she did give us the address the call was traced to.”  
  
“The victim was shot at three in the afternoon,” Harry murmured, “Two hours earlier than the caller indicated, I wonder why?”  
  
Louis stood, “We’re about to figure out. Listen up team! We’re making a house call, everyone in bulletproof vests, guns loaded. We need to get going, now.”  
  
There was a chorus of ‘Yes , Chief,’ as the members of the murder special investigation unit stood and got ready to go out. Harry had picked up the file again, a frown on his face.  
  
“What’s up?” Louis asked.  
  
“Doesn’t he look vaguely familiar?” Harry said. He couldn’t place the ruffled brown hair but the blue eyes standing out from the pale face looked as if he had seen them before.  
  
Louis stared at the photo again before shaking his head, “Not really, no. He kind of looks like one of those boy-next-door types. Maybe you know someone like him.”  
  
“Not with those eyes,” Harry said, more for his benefit than Louis’.  
  
Louis shrugged, “You can think about it during the car ride because I’m driving. You almost killed me this morning.”  
  
“Can’t help it that you’re a slow driver, Tomlinson,” Harry laughed, “Let’s go.”  
…  
 _We were laying on the couch, his arm around my shoulder as we watched a movie when he gave a soft chuckle, “Remember when we met?”_  
  
 _I laughed, “Yeah, try not to though.”_  
  
 _“Who would have thought we’d end here after that.” He said._  
  
 _Who indeed. It had been after a particularly unpleasant job and I was leaning on the outside of a convenience store, counting my money and drinking a bottle of beer. He had leaned next to me, offering me a cigarette which I took with more than a little bit of suspicion._  
  
 _“I’m not on the clock right now, buddy,” I told him, letting him light up my cigarette._  
  
 _He had raised an eyebrow, “No idea what you’re talking about. I wanted a smoke, you’re standing in the smoking spot and I’m a generous guy.”_  
  
 _“Yeah, right. Look, we can schedule another time if you’re that desperate.”_  
  
 _He smirked, “Let’s try this again, my name is Zayn Malik and I don’t want anything from you besides being able to share your expansive wall space, you are?”_  
  
 _“Niall.”_  
…  
The trail of police vehicles arrived at the apartment, Harry pocketing the search warrant they had gotten on their way over as he got out of the car.  
  
He stared at the surrounding area as Louis dispatched a pair to each of the exits while leading four into the building with them. The apartment was on the third floor and after knocking and calling out their presence for what they hoped would be an occupied apartment, Harry knelt by the door and began to pick the lock.  
  
It took him less than ten seconds to have the door swinging open, something he stored away as a personal best as he stepped aside, letting the four team members do an initial sweep of the apartment.  
  
“All clear!” They called and Louis and Harry moved inside.  
  
The apartment was empty, nearly no furniture in the small one bedroom complex. The kitchen was the only furnished area, a single table in the middle of the counters and appliances. Harry had the team move through the apartment while he took pictures of the space he was in.  
  
Louis moved over to the phone sitting in the middle of the table, the light next to a voicemail blinking slowly. He put on a glove, so as not to disturb any set of fingerprints that may be there, before clicking speaker and then the voicemail button.  
  
“Hello there, if you aren’t a member of the police force coming to investigate Jonathan Price’s death, please run out of the room now because you certainly don’t want to hear the following details. If you are the police, by all means listen, this is a message for you.” The voice was the same one that had been on the emergency call, unusually cheerful and devoid of an accent.  
  
“Such a shame you’re here, though can’t say it’s much of a surprise. The police system is in shambles, you care more about the dead than the living. Jonathan Price was dead when I made the 999 phone call, he just didn’t know it yet. However, you could’ve reversed his fate by taking the smallest of actions, sending just one officer to the building. I would have come in quietly. It took his brutal murder for you to come and investigate, he had to actually be dead for you to care. Pathetic. Anyways, good luck finding me, it should be a entertaining search. Best of luck to you officiers, try not to follow in Jonathan’s footsteps.”  
  
The voicemail clicked off and Harry and Louis stared at it in silence for a few seconds more. Louis was the  first to recover, giving the phone a quick glare before calling, “We’re leaving! Everyone out the apartment now!”  
  
Harry made one last sweep of the apartment, noticing a drawer that wasn’t closed all the way. He moved over to it and opened the drawer, inside was an empty pack of cigarettes and a picture of a lad with raven-black hair, brown eyes and tanned skin, smirking at the camera. Harry put on a glove and placed both items in an evidence bag before following Louis out of the apartment.  
…  
 _After the initial discomfort I had felt about our first meeting I relaxed in Zayn’s company. He just stood next to me on the wall, staring off into the distance. I took the opportunity to size him up. He was flawless, his hair gelled into a quiff that made it easier to admire his wonderfully structured face and long eyelashes._  
  
 _He had left when his cigarette was done, stomping it under his foot and nodding a good-bye to me, walking away without another word. Part of me was glad that he had honestly wanted nothing from me. But a larger part was kind of hoping he would want something from me. Even if he simply used me and dropped me like so many others I would’ve been happy. I wanted to be in his presence longer._  
  
 _I had returned to that convenience store every day at the same time for nearly two weeks before I saw him again. He offered me a cigarette, a  slightly knowing smile on his face. That day we talked, about simple things, nothing personal._  
  
 _He came back the next day, and the next and on the fifth day he asked me out to dinner. I agreed without hesitation. I couldn’t resist Zayn even if I wanted to._  
….  
“Who is he?” Harry asked Louis, motioning to the picture he had gotten out of the apartment.  
  
“Files say he’s Zayn Malik,” Louis replied, rapidly reading from the computer screen, “Born in Bradford, had aspirations to be a singer, went to a school here in London. Was shot to death on a street corner a couple of months ago, age nineteen.”  
  
“The murderer?” Harry prompted.  
  
“Never found. Here’s where things get interesting, this is a murder that Jonathan Price was accused of doing, Niall Horan was convinced he had killed Mr. Malik. There was no evidence, no video footage to prove the murder and Mr. Horan had called in the emergency call after spending several hours at the bar with Mr. Malik. The judge attributed the accusation of Price to intoxication and let Price go of the murder charge. A few days later the two ended up in court once more because Price had attacked Horan, Horan won that charge. Price was sentenced to community service.”  
  
Harry ran his fingers through his hair, “Did they have proof that Horan was intoxicated at the time of Malik’s death?”  
  
“No.”   
  
Harry drummed his fingers on the desk, “Well I’m convinced that either someone is framing Horan or he definitely committed the murder. We just have no evidence and no idea where he is. All we have is the damn picture of him and who knows how old it is.”  
  
“Let’s swing by Price’s apartment, maybe there’s something helpful there.”  
…  
 _We dated for a few weeks before I finally plucked up the courage to tell him why I had been so suspicious at our first meeting. He simply laughed at me._  
  
 _“I know, Niall. I have lived in London for a while. I could tell.”_  
  
 _I blushed, “And you still asked me out, why?”_  
  
 _He shrugged, “Because you’re wonderful.”_  
  
 _And he was perfect. I moved into his apartment a few weeks later, getting a job at a local coffee shop. My life was actually enjoyable. It was because of Zayn. I never wanted to lose him._  
…  
It took Harry exactly nine seconds to pick Jonathan Price’s lock. They stepped into the apartment and stopped at the threshold, eyes widening simultaneously in a way that might have been funny if it weren’t for the pure destruction in front of them.  
  
The white walls were splattered with blood red paint and the furniture was all ruined. The couch ripped to shreds while the wooden table in the kitchen was in splinters.  
  
“Well, someone besides Price was obviously in here recently,” Louis muttered as Harry pulled out a camera, taking pictures of the mess.  
  
Harry moved further into the apartment, leaving Louis behind in the doorway. The older boy took in the mess before turning back to the door, kneeling next to it and studying it carefully.  
  
“Hey, Haz!” He called through the apartment, “The door and the lock were fine, right?”  
  
“Nothing out of the ordinary!” Came the reply, “Nobody forced their way in if that’s what you’re wondering.”  
  
Louis’ eyed the lock, that meant that someone had the key. That narrowed it away from Niall Horan seeing as how the owner to the building would only give out two keys at the maximum and changed locks in between tenants. It would make more sense for the person who destroyed the home to be family or a friend. Unless this person was different from the killer.  
  
“Louis! I found something!”  
  
Louis moved from the door and moved to where Harry was, in the bedroom. On the nightside table was an empty pack of the same cigarettes with a key sitting on top. A sticky note was next to the box with a message written in plain handwriting.  
  
 _For you, Jonathan. If I somehow don’t kill you you should really stop handing out your house key to the prostitutes, okay? - Blondie xx_  
  
Louis bagged the evidence as Harry reread the note, his eyebrows furrowed as he thought something through.   
  
“Come on, Lou. Let’s get back to the station, I have an idea.”  
…  
 _It was my birthday. The first one I had celebrated in three years. Zayn took me out to a bar and we just partied for hours. He had even brought me a cake. To top it all off, we left the bar early and went to a park across the street._  
  
 _There he told me how much I meant to him and how he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me. My present wasn’t an engagement ring, it was a promise ring. It symbolized more than getting married one day. It symbolized my promise not to go back to the streets and his to finish school and get a good career._  
  
 _It symbolized us._  
  
 _He pulled me into a kiss. We had kissed many times over the months we had been dating, but this one was different. It felt as if all the happiness I could ever possibly feel was stored in his lips and when they eased over mine I couldn’t help but clutch onto him._  
  
 _I knew he wouldn’t let me go._  
…  
Louis followed Harry into the station, scowling because he had gotten absolutely no explanation as to why Harry was suddenly looking eager, as if he knew what was going on. He grabbed the empty file of Niall Horan, pulling out the picture before moving to their cabinet of solved cases.  
  
He ruffled through the files, murmuring dates to himself before pulling out a particularly fat folder that Louis recognized from a case almost a year ago. One that had taken almost a month to solve seeing as it had to do with a drug ring and no one had been willing to talk about it.  
  
Harry flipped through the papers of witness before pulling out a single paper of a young man that had given them one piece of invaluable information. He had blonde hair and brilliant blue eyes, glaring at the camera.  
  
He hadn’t given Harry a name when he had agreed to meet with the young officer at a secluded bar. Said his name didn’t matter, not in his line of business. It had been a trade-off, Harry wouldn’t tip off the department that there was an underaged prostitute roaming the streets and the lad would give him an address.   
  
Harry had went looking for him once more about two months ago when he had been in need of another useful piece of information. When he had arrived at the lad’s usual street corner the other prostitutes had said , ‘Blondie’ had quite the business. Found himself someone to settle down with and had basically disappeared.  
  
Now Harry knew where.   
  
“Louis, did someone search Zayn Malik’s apartment?” He asked.  
  
Louis nodded, “While we went to Price’s place a team went to Malik’s apartment, it’s been empty for nearly a month. Nothing there except an empty lighter and a receipt for three boxes of the types of cigarettes we’ve been finding.”  
  
Harry passed over the pictures, “I knew he looked familiar. I’ve talked with him once before.”  
  
“Any idea where he might be?”  
  
“Yes.”  
…  
 _We went back to the club for one last drink, Zayn’s arm around my waist as we talked softly, our heads tilted towards each other. I toyed with the ring, unable to keep a stupid grin off my face. I knew I probably looked ridiculous but I was too happy to care. Nothing could ruin this night for me._  
  
 _“Hey, Blondie!” I cringed at the nickname, praying that it wasn’t who I thought I was._  
  
 _Zayn and I turned and I bit my lip in worry. Not now, “Hello, Mr. Price.”_  
  
 _“I’ve been looking all over town for you! Did you forget that I pay good money for you to come to my place every Tuesday night?”_  
  
 _“You did, Mr. Price. But I’m sure the others told you that I quit. I’m not for sale anymore.”_  
  
 _“Like hell you aren’t. I spent good money for that year long fucking contract.”_  
 _“I sent you the rest of your payment in the mail.”_  
  
 _He took a menacing step forward, grabbing the front of my shirt and twisting it, lifting me off the ground, “Listen to me, kid. I don’t want my fucking money back. You’re mine, or did you forget that?”_  
  
 _He lifted the corner of my shirt to reveal the only tattoo I had ever gotten. It had been against my will, but the contract had paid well. I was branded._  
  
 _“Who the hell are you?” Zayn snapped, stepping towards Jonathan._  
  
 _“None of your business, kid. Go away.”_  
  
 _“I think it is my business since that’s my boyfriend you’re threatening.”_  
  
 _Jonathan raised an eyebrow at Zayn, sizing him up before dropping me to the ground. I gasped for air, trying to tell Zayn to back off, to leave it alone._  
  
 _“You’re the reason he vanished? Didn’t mommy ever tell you not to take what doesn’t belong to you, kid?”_  
  
 _“He’s a human being,” Zayn said, “He doesn’t belong to anyone, why don’t you just leave before I call the police.”_  
  
 _Zayn held up his phone, his fingers poised to dial and Jonathan scowled, a fist lashing out to connect squarely with Zayn’s stomach. He doubled over, the phone dropping from his grasp. Zayn recovered quickly, two punches delivered in rapid succession connected to Jonathan’s face, forcing him to stumble back._  
  
 _Jonathan collided with the wall and Zayn pinned him there, “Listen good. I don’t know who the fuck you are, but if you ever come near him again I’m going to give you worse than that. Besides, I’m sure the cops would love to hear you’re going around branding underaged prostitutes.”_  
  
 _Jonathan’s eyes widened in fear and Zayn spat at his feet, letting go and giving Jonathan a couple seconds to decide if he wanted to attack him again. He didn’t move._  
…  
Harry pulled into a parking lot not far from the homicide scene. Getting out quietly as he scanned the streets, hoping his intuition was right.  
  
He had teams dispatched in a circle around this particular intersection, positive that Niall would try to make a run for it once he saw the police moving in.  
  
“Do you see him?” Louis asked.  
  
Harry nodded, pointing across from them. Leaning against the wall of a convenience store a blond lad was smoking a cigarette. Louis and Harry made their way towards him, not bother to be subtle. The lad watched them approach, not moving from his relaxed position against the wall.  
  
When they were within earshot he grinned, “Coming for a cigarette, Styles?”  
  
“I don’t smoke,” Harry replied, “Been told it’s a nasty habit. Long time, no see, Horan.”  
  
Niall shrugged, crushing his cigarette underneath his feet before starting on another, “Yeah, got tired of my job. I’ve been working at a coffee shop.”  
  
“Can we ask you a couple questions, Niall?” Louis asked.  
  
The response was a small laugh, “Well you didn’t really give me a choice with the first one, so go ahead.”  
  
“Where were you yesterday at three o’clock p.m.?”  
  
“Roaming the streets.”  
  
“Any streets in particular?”  
  
“Whichever ones I felt like. I was visiting some old friends.”  
  
“Would one of those friends be Jonathan Price.”  
  
Niall smiled, taking a draft from his cigarette. The smile was cold, never reaching his eyes which were pure ice, “Price ain’t a friend of mine. Son of a bitch had what was coming to him.”  
  
“We went to Price’s apartment and found a note signed ‘Blondie’ that is your nickname, isn’t it?”  
  
“Was, don’t go by it anymore. Kind of a condescending ring to it, doesn’t it?”  
  
Harry and Louis exchanged glances. At the moment they had no hard evidence that Niall was the murderer, just a couple of connected dots that logically pointed towards the boy. If Niall didn’t give them anything that could be a means of arrest they wouldn’t be able to take him in for serious questioning.  
  
Louis tried a different approach, “Can we ask you about Zayn Malik’s murder.”  
  
Niall’s eyes turned a shade colder and he clenched his teeth, seeming to hold a comment back before shrugging once more, “I suppose.”  
  
“He was your friend?”  
  
“Boyfriend.” The blond lad corrected.  
  
“And you drunkenly mistook Jonathan Price to be the killer.”  
  
“It wasn’t a mistake. The bastard killed him in front of my eyes. I didn’t get wasted until afterwards.”  
…  
 _Zayn walked towards me, helping me to my feet, “Come on, babe. Let’s get out of here.”_  
  
 _Everything from that point on went in slow motion. I vaguely heard a click that I recognized as a safety being shut off and I tugged Zayn’s arm, trying to get him to speed up._  
  
 _He didn’t realize what I was doing and laughed at me. Then there was a gunshot._  
  
 _Zayn’s voice caught mid-laughter and he stumbled forward, collapsing onto his knees as he gasped for air. I knelt next to him, horrified to see blood coming from a wound in his stomach. I whirled around in time to see Jonathan’s twisted grin before he ran off down the street._  
  
 _I laid Zayn, face up, ripping my jacket off and pressing it to his stomach, trying to slow the flow of blood._  
  
 _“Somebody help me!” I called, “He’s been shot! He’s wounded!! Someone call an ambulance!”_  
  
 _My voice echoed down the street, falling on deaf ears. No one responded and I rapidly blinked to hold back the tears, fumbling in my pocket for a phone._  
  
 _“Hold on, Zayn. I’m going to get you help.”_  
  
 _He didn’t answer and I could feel my heartbeat  increasing with each labored breath he took. I dialed 999 with shaky hands._  
  
 _“999, what’s your emergency?”_

_“My boyfriend’s been shot, in the stomach, I need help!”_

_“Alright, sir. I’m sending the call trace to paramedics. While they dispatch could you tell me what happened?”_  
  
 _I described the meeting to her, my voice shaking in my panic. I was almost done when a quiet voice drew my attention away from the phone._  
 _“Niall.” I looked down at Zayn, his eyes squinted as if he was trying to keep me in focus._  
  
 _“I’m right here, Zayn. Don’t worry. I’m not leaving.”_  
  
 _“Niall, listen.” His voice was so soft, so fragile, “You have to promise me something.”_  
  
 _“Of course, anything.”_  
  
 _“Don’t go back on the streets. Don’t give up when I’m gone. You can still have a nice life, you have so much potential.”_  
  
 _The tears pushed their way to the surface and I angrily swiped at them, “Don’t say that, Zayn. You’re going to be okay.”_  
  
 _He burst into a coughing fit, hacking in a way that was sure to ruin his voice before he continued, “Promise me, Niall.”_  
  
 _“Zayn, I-”_  
  
 _“Promise.” His voice was firm._  
  
 _I sighed, I couldn’t refuse him. I never could, “I promise, Zayn.”_  
  
 _He smiled, “I love you, Niall.” His eyes fluttered shut and I began to panic again._  
  
 _I grabbed his hand, shaking it desperately, “Zayn! Don’t leave me!”_  
  
 _I checked frantically for a pulse, a sign of breathing, anything that would tell me he was still here. That he wasn’t gone. But he was. Zayn was dead._  
  
 _I didn’t fight the tears anymore and let them fall freely down my face, still sobbing as the paramedics finally arrived on the scene. Before they dragged me away from his lifeless body I murmured on last set of words to him._  
  
 _“I love you too.”_  
…  
“I’m sorry to hear that Niall, but we need to know who killed Jonathan Price.”  
  
Niall scowled, ‘Why’s it so important? Didn’t even have two cops trying to find Zayn’s murdering but Price dies and there’s suddenly a fucking manhunt for whoever killed him.”  
  
Louis got a call and turned his back to answer the call, “Hello?”  
  
“We found a DNA sample from Niall Horan in Malik’s apartment, Chief. We ran a cross analysis on the spit on Price’s jacket from the murderer.”  
  
“And?”  
  
“It’s a match, sir.”  
  
“Thank you, tell them to prepare the questioning room. We’ll be at the station soon.” He hung up and turned back to Niall and Harry. Harry was trying to explain why it was important to find Price’s murderer, “Drop it, Harry.” Louis said, “We’re taking him into the station.”  
  
Niall laughed, “You can’t. You don’t have any evidence.”  
  
“We found a sample of your DNA on Price’s jacket. The video clips show that the murderer spit on the body, looks like that was you. Let’s go.”  
  
“No.”  
  
Louis took a step towards Niall and froze when a gun was aimed directly at his skull. Niall was now standing straight, a gun in either hand, one pointed at Harry and the other at Louis, “Take one more step towards me and I’ll shoot.” His voice was cool, “You can’t take me in. I’m a street rat, I won’t get fair treatment in that station. I saw how much you people cared about the common person after Price killed Zayn. I’m not going.”  
  
“Niall, if you kill a police officer you’re going to hunted throughout England.”  
  
“I would give me something to do, wouldn’t it?”  
  
“Niall,” That was Harry, “Put the gun down.”  
  
“Make me.”  
  
During the conversation a third officer had crept up behind Niall and when the blond lad turned to run he was met with a fist in the gut and two strong hands wrenching the weapons from his wrists.  
  
In a matter of minutes he was handcuffed and pushed into a police car, they headed to the station.  
…  
 _I have nothing left to live for._  
  
 _I had thought being with Zayn was safe. He was sort of a barrier between me and the streets. He kept me from going back out there. I thought that if I stayed on the good side of the town I could forget about all the time I had spent giving my body over for stack of money._  
  
 _I was wrong. It was my fault that he was gone. If he had never met me he would still be alive. I couldn’t even get his murderer in jail for killing him._  
  
 _If anyone had deserved to die it was me._  
  
 _I took the gun that was stored in what used to be our shared apartment and held it to my head, prepared to pull the trigger. As I looked in the mirror I saw scratch marks from where my shirt had chafed my neck and I slowly lowered the gun._  
  
 _Who needed the justice system? Jonathan was going to get what was coming to him._  
  
 _It would be my pleasure to kill him._  
…  
Once Niall was in the station it took less than half an hour to get a confession out of him. When he had realized that he was going to be convicted anyway Niall had announced with vehement pride that he had murdered Jonathan Price and that he ‘fucking deserved it.’  
  
Harry and Louis left the questioning room with identical grim faces. Turning over the case to the lawyers.  
  
“What’s going to happen to him?” The questioner was a new girl, not in the department for very long.  
  
“He’ll have to sing a sweet tune to get out of life imprisonment.” Harry said grimly.  
  
“Does he know that Price was going to be brought in for a retrial because they found his DNA on the crime scene?” The girl asked.  
  
Louis sighed, “No.”  
…  
 _I sat in my cell, staring at my left hand. They had taken the ring when I was sentenced to jail. It had hurt, giving it up. It was the last piece of Zayn I had left and they had taken it from me._  
  
 _What was worse was the fact that I had broken my last promise to him. I had thrown my entire life away for revenge and now I would sit here in a jail cell until I died._  
  
 _I didn’t deserve Zayn. I never did._  
  
 _I lay down on the small cot, staring at the ceiling._  
  
 _“I’m sorry.”_


End file.
